Window Seat | Mrinal Chatterjee |2.10.22
Irony
October 2, the birthday of Mahatma Gandhi is observed as the
International Day of Non-Violence since 2007 to "disseminate the message
of non-violence, including through education and public awareness".
Mahatma Gandhi was in public life for over half a century- from
late 19 century in South Africa (he formed Natal Indian Congress on 22 August
1894) to India till his death in January 1948 in Delhi. His socio-political
movements were based on three pillars: truth, justice and non-violence.
As Ehsan Naraghi
writes in the UNESCO Courier in 1992, “The name of Mahatma Gandhi transcends the bounds of race,
religion and nation-states, and has emerged as the prophetic voice of the
twenty-first century. The world remembers Gandhi not just for his passionate
adherence to the practice of non-violence and supreme humanism, but as the
benchmark against which we test men and women in public life, political ideas
and government policies, and the hopes and wishes of our shared planet.”
It is often said that history is full of irony. Consider what
happened as India was coming closer to gaining its independence from the
British raj. It was Gandhi , who primarily
led the freedom movement from 1922 (non-cooperation movement) till 1942 (Quit India Movement). There were
other movements which attempted to use violent means though. Gandhi was opposed
to the partition of the country. But partition happened because barring a few
like Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan, almost all
leaders of most of the political parties and the British Raj wanted partition.
Two independent dominions- India and Pakistan based broadly on
religion were created. Pakistan had two landmasses, East and West Pakistan,
2020 km apart from each other.
The abrupt partition of India, occurring after two intense years of anticipatory turmoil was poorly
planned and executed in haste. It was eerily violent and deeply traumatic. The partition displaced over 14 million people along religious
lines, creating overwhelming refugee crises in the newly constituted
dominions; there was large-scale violence, with estimates of loss of life
varying between several hundred thousand and two million. Thousands of women
were raped and abducted. Never before in the history
of mankind had such large scale violence and displacement of population taken
place within such a short span of time. Though India and Pakistan
share a common culture, and people of the dominant religions- Hindu, Muslim and
Sikh -have been living together for ages, the violence that happened reached
unprecedented scales, with Hindus and Sikhs on one side and Muslims on the
other.
The ultimate irony was, on 14-15 August 1947 night, when
India was celebrating its independence and the first prime minister of
independent India Nehru was delivering his now iconic ‘tryst with destiny’
speech, the ‘father of the nation’ was sitting huddled with others at a house
named Hyderi Manzil, close to a Muslim-dominated slum in Calcutta (now Kolkata) fasting and
praying for communal harmony.
Fallen
Flower
Anybody going on a
morning walk in small towns and cities can find them- persons with a stick in
hand and polythene bag in pocket. They would pluck flowers from roadside
flowering trees, steal from other’s gardens and public park. If you confront
them, they would say: it is for puja (worship) of God at home- as if God had
specially asked them to do so.
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With this as
background, I’ll now retell what my friend and journalist-turned media
academician Mrityunjay Chatterjee has written on his social media platform:
Every morning, I
see an elderly gentleman picking up flowers fallen under a tree and placing
them in a basket. He would pick the flowers tenderly and with a strange
devotion.
His activity used
to intrigue me.
Today I saw him
again and decided to put my curiosity to rest, about why he picked up fallen
flowers while other elderly people plucked fresh flowers.
I asked him, "I
always see you picking up these fallen flowers from the ground. What do you do
with them?"
-
"I offer these flowers at the
feet of the deities at home," he answered calmly.
This was the first time
I had heard something like this. So, I asked him again, "If you don't
mind, may I ask why you offer fallen flowers to God when there are so many
flowers on the tree?"
-
"I help the flowers fulfill
their purpose - of being with God in their last days. They have life too; like
us, they also want to be with God in their final days, don't they?" he
asked me.
I nodded in silence
with a strange churn in my inner being.
He said, "Some
people pluck buds that have not yet bloomed and some only pluck buds that have
just blossomed, not even letting them release their fragrance. Everyone takes
what is beautiful and takes away the plant's beauty from it. See how these
plants look, colorless and deserted."
He continued,
"Every flower has a purpose, to be with God. While everyone takes the
flowers that are still on the plants, I do not choose those. It is not the
flowers' fault that they fell off. They also deserve to be with God. You should
try it too, it will give you peace and happiness...just as it gives me. I cannot
support anyone in this old age, but I can at least help these flowers achieve
their goal."
I just nodded,
wished him well and kept on walking.
My mind was racing.
With this new inspiration and idea, I decided that I should also try to collect
fallen flowers.
I crossed a
hibiscus tree and saw some flowers under the tree. As I bent down to pick them
up, I heard a voice.
"You cannot
offer fallen flowers to God," I heard an inner voice say. I stopped for a
moment.
"God is only
looking for your feeling and devotion, so go ahead and pick up," I argued
with myself.
After a few moments
of this turmoil, I picked up the flowers and placed them on my palms. As soon
as I placed the flowers on my palms, I got goose bumps and my heart began to
race. It was a very different kind of love that I was feeling for these flowers
from inside.
I brought those
flowers home, washed them and put them where they should be, at the feet of the
Lord.
The whole
experience was just wonderful. I felt great within. I felt as if I had saved someone's
life or helped someone come out of misery. I had never felt this kind of
satisfaction ever before.
And I will continue
to do so --Pick up what has fallen.
In life, we always
want to be around good and beautiful people. We want to see ourselves with
people who are of our stature, and those who are below our stature, we want to
see them below us.
But, the real
satisfaction comes when we help someone and make their life better. Be it
human, animal, bird or any other form of life.
So why not flowers?
Conversation
Triggers
Every city has its
own conversation triggers.
In Delhi it moves
around political and administrative power.
In Kolkata it is
Politics, food and culture (pronounced- kalchar).
In Chennai it is
cinema and stars.
In Mumbai it is
rains, trains and share market.
In Bhubaneswar it
is temperature- hot or cold, depending on the time of the year.
In Bangalore it is
traffic jam. Everybody talks about it at least five times a day.
++
Journalist turned media academician
Mrinal Chatterjee lives in Dhenkanal, Odisha. He also writes fiction and plays.
mrinalchatterjeeiimc@gmail.com
This column is published in Gangtok based English daily Sikkim Express, Indore based English daily Free Press Journal and Bhubaneswar based news site www.prameyanews.com
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